


extermination

by dulcettie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, No Smut, Slow Burn, and psychological torture!, watch out for violence!, ya done been warned lads!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 22:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14554722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulcettie/pseuds/dulcettie
Summary: in which after years of careful planning, you find that even the pure manipulation of the human mind cannot save you from the filth that this race spreads with their every action.





	extermination

The gun in your hand shook uncontrollably. You were unused to such a heavy weapon - they had never been your style. But Mister had insisted on this much, and you knew better than to argue with him when he used such a serious tone. So you steeled your hand, and forced the quivers to still into the occasional light tremble.

“I’m certain I don’t need to remind you of how crucial this mission is, [surname].”

“As if. Do I need to remind you that this is not my first time on the field?” His silence somehow managed to sound displeased, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. All of your petty crime, all of your outright torture and murder had been leading up to today, and there wasn’t a chance you were going to let one of Mister’s moods ruin this either.

“Have you locked onto the target yet?”

Now you were starting to feel irked. Normally, the BARREN head left you to do your job, and return time after time with nothing but successful reports. Why had he chosen the most important field mission of your life to suddenly monitor your skills? “Did that a while ago. Ask me another question like that, and I’ll crush the comm device.”

“I don’t think you’d like the consequences for that very much, [name].”

You were tempted to mimic the deep, Bostonian drawl, but instinct stopped you. That, and the sudden disappearance of Peter Parker from your field of vision. You scanned around, then dashed down the hall to where the mail was kept in the apartment complex. Bingo. He was humming something under his breath, bouncing a bit on his heels as he stuck his head all the way in to check for any missed letters. “The kid is a tactical nightmare. Who gave him a super suit again?”

“Should you really be having such casual conversation when he’s right there?”

“I’m not a child,” you snapped. “I could cloak myself in my sleep. I have cloaked myself in my sleep before, actually. Mr. Spiderman won’t know I’m here until I want him to.”

“Are you sure it’s the kid you should be worried about?”

Your tongue felt heavy, as if you’d had an allergic reaction to the mere suggestion of your downfall at the hands of some simple, lowly civilians that you could contain without any mind manipulation whatsoever. “Mister,” you hissed, hands clenched around that stupid gun that your finger was now aching to squeeze the trigger of. A trigger which was snatched from your pathetically weak grip.

“What did you say about the boss?”

Peter Parker became as relevant as a well-built Teletubbie.

There was a gun pointed at you, and that little suck-up Haney had the nerve to pretend he was capable of shooting you, even on orders. “Mister? What the hell? The comm device is still in.” You’d have thought the line dead, if not for the telltale wheezing with every exhale of breath (his lungs had been weak since childhood).

“Mister won’t be able to bail you out this time, [name]. Should have thought of that.”

“You put that gun down or I swear to God I’ll make you regret the day your sorry little mama popped you out into the world.” You grinned, daring him to move that pointer finger even a tenth of an inch. “If you think you’re not expendable, I’d be glad to prove otherwise.”

A sharp pain pierced through your chest, and you shrieked, your body seizing around the cold metal that was so close your heart, too close.

“Miss? Miss?!” You clenched your fists, glaring at the two men squirming on the ground like puppies who’d been kicked one too many times. Your instincts had never failed you before, and they'd been down before they could even cry 'Uncle!'. 

“You too, Jonesy? I kinda liked you, actually.” Your breaths tasted like metal, and you kicked him in the stomach for good measure. Not that he’d feel it. You’d snooped around all of BARREN’s agents, just in case of a situation like this. When dealing with the worst of the worst, the benefit of the doubt could get you killed. It almost just got you killed. Your grip tightened, nails cutting into your palms, and the slight sting reminded to concentrate your mind, until their minds were broken beyond repair.

Blood leaked from Haney’s mouth and nose as he screamed in agony, clawing at his body. He had a fear of decay, worms nestling into every cranny of his body and smothering him, nibbling away bit after bit until nothing was left. Stupid boy. You hadn’t expected to unleash this fantasy until much later, and the grim satisfaction of watching Haney rip his body apart almost dulled the fact that you might be dying.

Too late, you remembered to pull out the knife. It didn’t matter - it’d be smarter to let your blood clot around it. “Peter! Peter Parker! Just wait a moment please!” You cursed, swinging around wildly. The tot had disappeared. You couldn’t blame him - the sudden appearance of a woman with a knife stuck in her back, growling at two giants slowly killing themselves must have been shocking, even for an Avenger. So much for the plan.

You’d have to go rogue then.

You picked up the discarded gun and shot each man in the head (Jonesy got it twice, until he stopped twitching, but you hit Haney in a relatively unimportant spot - the little bitch could take care of the rest himself). You tossed the gun in the nearby trashcan and began staggering to the staircase, to wait for the kid in his own room. A real ambush, like a real spy.

You’d underestimated the severity of your wounds.

Halfway up you leaned against the staircase, swallowing down two parts blood for every part saliva. Just what had Jonesy ruptured? It made you like him a little more - that dumb baby Haney hadn’t done anything but try to milk his five seconds of fame.

Inconsequential. Both of them. They had been eliminated, and now you had one more target before you could pass out peacefully back in the headquarters hospital.

You tried to move, but couldn’t coax your body. Your brain felt as if it was on the verge of tearing apart. In your rage, you had overextended yourself, and the simple cloaking that you had bragged about minutes before felt impossible difficult. Your arms and legs remained leaden, and even your chest couldn’t seem to handle its usual up and down motions.

You weren’t really going to die, were you?

You dropped the cloak, using your power to envision your goal, beautiful in front of you, and real enough in your mind that you could inch forward slowly. Perfect.

A tangle of webbing caught you in place, and you heaved a sigh. The entire universe was plotting against you. You had been so close - the mission was supposed to be your crowning success - and a bunch of unsupervised buffoons had ruined it all. Hot tears swam in your eyes. The adrenaline was wearing off, and your body could really only handle so much. You hadn’t been trained to be exposed to this much physical combat. How unfair.

“[surname]?”

Your voice caught in your throat. To hear that, after an eternity of wheezing - “How fucking dare you-”

“Excuse me?” You stared into the eyes of the Spiderman mask. You could almost see the offense plastered on the face underneath.

Then Mister began speaking, softly. How ironic, that the comm had been what survived this whole mess. “This is the real plan, agent, and if you want to succeed, you will stay quiet, and you will listen, and you will obey. You will go with Mr. Parker. You will be treated in the Avengers facility. You will behave yourself, like the lady I know you can be, when you try real hard. And then, you will await further instruction. Grunt if understood.” You grunted softly, hacking up fleshy phlegm in the process.

“You wouldn’t happen to be here looking for me, right?”

You almost laughed at Parker's naivety. Did he really think one of the bad guys would just talk when caught? He was lucky you were there on orders. “Those two men. Were very dangerous.”

“You killed them.”

“Had to. They would have killed us.”

“. . . so then, you’re not a bad guy?”

“I’d leave that call up to the Avengers.”

You could almost see him thinking behind the breathable, stretchy fabric. “I mean, I’d like to, but I really can’t.”

“Okay. Understandable. What about a hospital?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah I get that. I’m on it.”

Mister chuckled over the comm, muttering before he disconnected the line - “You always were such an obedient little girl.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone!! i've written quite a bit of fanfic in my time on the internet (but this is my first work on here! exciting!) yet this is the first time i've tried to write something really dark and gritty? i hope you guys enjoy it idk if i'm just a soft baby but writing this lightweight disturbed me. . . it is necessary to the plot though so this will all pay off!! also, i am aware that this could seem dreadfully cliche, but please stick around for a little longer, because i promise everything will make more sense (and be less cliche. hopefully. that's the goal.) ok good bye!! have a lovely day!!


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